


War Games

by Quiet_Shadow



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Underage, Sparklings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 01:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is more than meet the eyes in the war... if you can really call that a war. Really, it's more like mock fight on a playground. And, as Optimus liked to put it: "Prowl, logic doesn’t apply with the casualities in this game. If it did, everybody would have been ‘dead’ a long time ago."</p>
            </blockquote>





	War Games

**Author's Note:**

> Oh dear, this one is very old indeed! I wrote it for a contest on the tf_bunny_farm back in August 2008.  
> It won the first place :)  
> I've got the banner to prove it: http://yami-samuraiflo.livejournal.com/15959.html
> 
> Inspired by bunny #75 of this list: http://tf-bunny-farm.livejournal.com/20131.html#cutid1  
> 75: What if the 'war' was just a game of pretend played by sparklings on the playground?
> 
> Also posted at my livejournal: http://yami-samuraiflo.livejournal.com/13145.html#comments
> 
> Warnings: Implied sexual/disturbing content toward the end

Cyberton was plunged in war. For eons now, the forces of the treacherous Megatron, leader of the Decepticons, and the courageous Optimus, leader of the Autobots, have fought for survival and the fate of their home. To free their homeworld from tyranny, Autobots wage their battles to destroy the evil forces of the Decepticons-

_-_-_

The narrator was cut off by an angry voice. “Hey! We’re not evil! You take that back! And stop telling everyone you’re virtuous or courageous. It’s getting old! Especially when you’re afraid of getting near a turbo-rat!”

The sentient being known as Optimus Prime pouted behind his mask. “We established which side was the good one before we began. Decepticons are evil and Autobots are nice mechs... and femmes,” he added, mindful of the few femmes who were on his side. “Beside, it would freak out too many people if Autobots were bad. And I can say I’m courageous if I want to, Megatron!”

The one everyone referred to as Megatron looked thoughtful for a few breems, before he started grinning. “You know what? Evil Autobots... It would be a slagging great idea for one of our next game! You think your ‘troups’ would be interested?” he asked eagerly.

Optimus just sighed. Trust his brother to have strange ideas… Evil Autobots. And what would be next? A giant block which was the source of their survival? Mini robot attaching themselves to their larger frames to give them some sort of absolute power?

It was ridiculous, but he knew that Megatron wouldn’t see it like that. He liked weird plots and strange twists.

Thankfully, Optimus was saved from speaking his mind and probably starting a real war right now by a power none of them could fight and against which they couldn’t rebel without being severly punished.

“Optimus! Megatron! You’re going to be late for school!”

Their creators’ voices.

Gathering their datapads, the two sparklings ran to the door. Primus bless creators all around Cybertron for having a perfect timing. And Primus help the poor unfortunate sparks of the teachers who were going to take care of them for the day...  
___________________________________________________________________________

Cheers ran loudly in the air as sparklings and younglings of every age began to run toward the doors of the classes, having waited longingly for these moment of freedom. Teachers sighed or in some cases, thanked Primus for granting them this blessed moment of calm which was called recess.

The sparklings were happy to have a break. Well, most of them. A red and blue sparkling was trailing behind the others, sulking, shaking his head and sometime clunching his fists.

Two black and white sparklings watched this display of emotions warily. One of them, wearing a visor, was quite surprised. “What’s his problem?” he asked as he watched the red and blue sparkling give a kick to the building’s wall.

The other glanced at him. “It’s nothing, Jazz. He’s just angry because Elita didn’t want to play with us today. She said it was a stupid game and she prefered to play with the other femmes. And he had asked her nicely, too, telling her she could be a commander and have her own squad.”

Jazz gasped. “And she didn’t want to? But... but... Prowl, that’s stupid!” the sparkling almost screamed. “Arcee agreed to play when Springer and Hot Rod asked her, and she doesn’t even have a high rank! And Chromia said ‘yes’ too when Ironhide asked... well, he asked and Bluestreak did his kicked turbopuppy optics so she said ‘yes’ this time...” he babbled.

Prowl nodded. “All the more reasons for Optimus to be sulking,” he explained. “Elita’s supposed to be his sweetspark, but she’s never around. She’s got weird ideas too; she always wants to be captured and then Optimus to rescue her and kiss her.”

“Oh. You’re right; that is weird,” said the young Jazz. Femmes were like that sometimes. His creators pretended they were another separate species and sometimes, he believed them. “Why doesn’t he take someone else as a sweetspark? Chromia, perhaps?” he asked hopefully. He liked Chromia a lot. She ‘fought’ better then most of their playmates and she often brought them treats.

But his hopes died quickly when he saw the other black and white sparkling shake his head. “Chromia is older than us and anyway, she’s always kissing Ironhide somewhere, so she wouldn’t agree,” said Prowl. “Besides, Optimus really likes Elita.”

Jazz grimaced. “Kissing? It’s... yerk!” he said.

Prowl nodded. Grown up were really weird. Why kiss them on the lips when it was so simple to give them a hug?

In another part of the playground, an orange sparkling was happily finishing piling up a set of brightly colored building blocks, making something that faintly resembled a building.

He smiled proudly at his work... until two fighting younglings rolled over it, exchanging punches and insults, not even caring or noticing they had disrupted a younger mech’s game.

Grapple howled when he saw his precious construction lying on the floor in piece. “Stop destroying my buildings, you primitives!” Hoist, who had come at the first sign of trouble, patted him on the shoulder in a comforting manner.

No matter how hard they tried, someone always managed to destroy whatever they had been working on. Hoist was pretty much immunized against it, but his friend wasn’t.

Sighing, he comforted Grapple the best he could. The fact the ‘Constructicons’ were snorting and laughting at them, even the youngest and rather shy Scavenger, wasn’t helping. Hoist eyed them angrily and they stopped. Long Haul even came to help them gather the blocks and put them back in the box. As he looked around to make sure they hadn't forgotten any, Hoist was surprised to see a small yellow hand stretched in his direction, holding a triangular block they used for the roofs.

Hoist crouched and smiled at the little mech. “Why, thank you Bumblebee. You’re really helpful.” The yellow sparkling giggled and Hoist’s smile widened.

Bumblebee was one of the youngest and newest members of the school, or rather the day care section of the school ground. He wasn’t walking very well for now and as such, passed most of his time crawling behind the others.

The others newcomers were as small as him, but had a better grasp on their motor skills, spoke more easily and had quite the temper, like Cliffjumper, or a lot of strenght, like Brawn.

Thankfully, for some reasons, those two prefered to harass Perceptor whenever the older sparkling was around. How he could tolerate them, Hoist had no idea. Then again, he hardly ever saw Perceptor outside of classes.

Most of the time, he opted to work in the mock lab they had set up un a corner of the playground and rarely interacted with the other sparklings, expect the ‘scientists’. Then again, Perceptor was often using big words not many of them understood.

Smokescreen pretended it was because the red sparkling learned to read Cybertronian with some kind of encyclopedia. Hoist was tempted to believe him. It would explain a lot of things...

Absently patting the little yellow mech’s helm, he began to speak with Grapple. The orange sparkling had calmed down and was now chalking up the outlines of a building on the ground. Tactfully, he pointed out a few irregularities and began to chat amiably with his friend. Bumblebee was chirping with them, trying to imitate them.

Hoist and Grapple didn’t have much time to plan their next creation, however. Halfway through the process, Ironhide came running toward them. “Eh! Megatron and Optimus said to regroup! We’re going to fight!” he said quickly then turned back toward another group.

Hoist and Grapple glanced at each other and nodded. There was still a ‘war’ going on, and they were going to win and get back to building whatever they wanted. Smiling, they ran behind Ironhide, eargely waiting for the assault.

None of them paid any mind to Bumblebee slowly crawling after them, frowning; there was no way he would miss the fun because he was little!

Bigger mechs were just meanies and he was going to sic Brawn on them!  
___________________________________________________________________________

Unfortunaly, no battle plan ever survived first contact with the enemy. Especially when the enemy didn’t want to follow the script.

Blitzwing was angry. They were going to lose the ‘battle’ this time, and the youngling hated losing more than anything. And, more humiliatingly, Bluestreak, the little chatter box, had ‘fired’ on him and according to the set of rules they had established prior to the game, he was supposed to be injured.

He didn’t want to be injured. It was stupid and the other always mocked him. So, instead of dropping to the ground and staying still, he crossed his arms and glared.

Bluestreak frowned. “You’re injured; you shouldn’t still be fighting,” he said, annoyed. Trust the ‘Cons to not respect the rules...

“I don't have to be injured if I don't want to be,” snapped the older sparkling. Truly, who did the little ‘Bot think he was? Just because he had a lucky shot...

“You’re supposed to follow the rules,” whined the grey sparkling. “You can’t ignore them just because you don’t like them.”

“No, you didn’t get me!” screamed Blitzwing. “You missed me, and now I’m pissed off and I’m going to kill you and then... Then... then...” he started, watching the battling sparklings and younglings, trying to find a target. “Then I will kill Prowl!” he finally claimed after seeing the white and black mech crouching near them.

Bluestreak’s optics widened. His lower lip started to quiver. “You can’t kill Prowl! He’s my brother and you don’t have the right to kill him!” he cried out.

Blitzwing smirked. Oh, this was going to be so much fun! “I can and I will! Watch me!” he said before turning his ‘weapon’ in Prowl’s direction and making ‘Bang! Bang! Bang!’ sound with his mouth.

As he had seen Blitzwing 'fire' at him, Prowl dropped to the ground as if he had been injured, to Bluestreak's greatest distress and growing horror.

His optics began to fill with a clear liquid. “I... don’t... want... Prowl... to... die!” said the sparkling, beginning to cry. Almost instantly, everybody stopped fighting. Jazz ran towards his fellow 'Autobot' and hugged him.

“There, there Blue! No crying! You’re a big mech, no? Beside, it’s not real, you know?” The young ‘gunner’ didn’t answer, chosing instead to sob in Jazz’s arms, despite the patting, sweet talking and general comforting attitude of his playmates, even the ‘Decepticons’. Or at least, most of them anyway.

Astrotrain, who didn’t feel any empathy with the situation, snorted. “Jeez, now you made the runt cry! Good job!” he said to Blitzwing, who shrugged. So what if the little ‘Bot was sensitive? It was a war game, fraggit, someone was bound to be killed, so why not Prowl?

As he heard the bigger mech’s insult, Sunstreaker growled. “Hey! Don’t you dare call Bluestreak a runt!” His twin, Sideswipe, followed his lead, putting his hands on his hips and glaring at the offending ‘Decepticon’. “Yes! You’re just a meanie!” he said.

Actually, he wanted to say something much more injurious, but he didn’t want to get caught saying dirty words. His creators would was his mouth with cleaning solution if they ever learned of it.

Before the situation could deteriorate further, another sparkling, white and red and old enough to almost be considered a youngling, grabbed the Twins each by a shoulder. “No fighting for real,” he hissed. “Or you will have detention and you’ll get hurt for real and the nurse isn’t here today and I can’t repair you for real,” he finished.

There was a big difference between being a doctor and pretending to be one, after all.

Optimus, who had come to help restrain them as well, nodded. “Listen to Ratchet for once; no fighting,” he advised. He smiled under his mask when the Twins grumbled but relaxed in his grip.

A blue sparkling watched the drama for a few breems before nudging some of his fellow playmates to let him pass. Nodding at Jazz, he took one of Bluestreak’s hands in his own.

“Upseting Bluestreak: unwise,” said Soundwave quietly, offering an energon goodie he had kept for cases like these to the upset sparkling, who smiled at him despite his tears. Soundwave smiled behind his mask as he saw several sparklings giving him grateful or approving smile.

Well, some of them weren’t aknowledging his efforts. “Oh, you just stay out of this, Soundwave, or I'll drop Ravage and your other dolls in a trash compactor!” Blitzwing snapped at him.

The blue sparkling stiffened and took a few step back, looking around to see where his precious charges were, only to see them missing. His spark faltered. Primus, he hoped no one had done as Blitzwing threatened!

He jumped in fright when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning his head, he met the optics of Blaster, the ‘Autobots’ ‘Communication Officer’. The sparkling winked at him. “Don’t worry, I have them,” smiled the other sparkling as he gave him saw different dolls, two avians, two mini-mechs, a bat and a large stuffed turbocat. “I wasn’t going to let those idiots hurt them.”

“Thanks,” said Soundwave, grabbing his precious ‘Cassettes’. Blaster just grinned. There was no better way to upset him or Soundwave then stealing or taking one of their toys as a hostage. They both despised such a tactic, but hey, they played ‘war’. It didn’t meant they would allow anything to happen to their own ‘Cassettes’ or the ‘Cassettes’ of the other.

Glancing at his supposed ‘leader’, who hadn’t defended him or his treasured friends, Soundwave hugged his toys closer to his chest. Nobody was going to hurt them if he had any say in it. And if Megatron allowed the other sparklings to damage them, then he wouldn’t play with them anymore!

Or he would turn traitor like Starscream and take the leadership away from Megatron so he could become leader. And then he would either decide to live in peace with the ‘Autobots’ or create a new park for his toys after he had defeated them. Either way, he would have his park.

Jazz was still trying to calm Bluestreak. “Come on, calm yourself! See, Prowl isn’t dead, he’s just injured!” he said, trying to ease the younger mech. “Show him, Prowl!” he called to his best friend.

But the black and white sparkling didn’t move from his place on the ground. “No. From the way and the distance he fired, I’m most likely dead and out of the game.” His speech caused Bluestreak to wail even harder.

Prowl stayed still. Jazz glared at him with all his spark. “Slaggit, Prowl, you aren’t helping!”

Little Bumblebee giggled and hide his mouth behind his end. A series of clickings and chirping was heard, and those who understood the noise roughly translated their little friend’s attempt at talking as: “Jazz said a bad word!”

Several sparklings giggled or smirked. Optimus stared in horror at the baby ‘bot, than glared at Jazz. “Jazz, language!” he snapped. The other sparkling looked sheepish. Bluestreak actually smiled a little, his sobs decreasing slightly.

Optimus looked at his ‘SIC’. “Prowl, stop staying on the ground. You weren’t even on the ‘Death List’ today, so stop playing ‘dead’.”

The other sparkling sat cross-legged. “Logicaly, I should be...” he started. Optimus cut him off before he could really start.

“Prowl, logic doesn’t apply with the casualities in this game. If it did, everybody would have been ‘dead’ a long time ago,” explained patiently the bigger sparkling for what he felt was the 100th time. Probably because it was. “That’s why we just say someone is in stasis lock or seriously injured when they are sick and miss the game. Like Red Alert,” he added, thinking of the sickly young mech who seemed to have a personality glitch. Nothing too bad, but bad enough for him to miss almost a dozen school cycles every few orns.

Prowl nodded absently. Truly, this made no sense. He wondered sometimes why he continued to play. Ah, yes, Jazz and Bluestreak and Smokescreen would glare/frown/scream at him if he tried to stop, and the Twins would be out of control.

Prowl wasn’t the only person displeased by the game today, however. A silver sparkling pushed everyone out of his way to face Optimus. The young ‘leader’ sighed. Megatron wasn’t happy, and he just knew he wasn’t going to help calming their younger comrade.

Megatron glared at everyone. Some of the sparklings took a step back. “And what, exactly, did you think you were doing, stopping the battle like that? Well, brother?” He stressed the word as if it was an insult, but Optimus didn’t care. Megatron was always like that when they were in public.

Why would he want everybody thinking they didn’t like each other, Optimus had no idea. Perhaps there was such things as being ‘too much in character’?

The big red and blue sparkling looked intensely at his silver colored brother. “Well, I couldn’t really let Bluestreak cry, could I? And anyway, it’s Blitzwing’s fault,” added Optimus. “If he hadn’t altered the battle plan by firing at Prowl...” he started.

The silver sparkling crossed his arms. “It’s not my fault you have stupid crysparklings in your ranks, Optimus,” he said haughtily.

Optimus frowned. He didn’t like hearing Megatron speaking this way. “Correct me if I’m wrong, brother dear, but Prowl wasn’t on the ‘Death List’ for this battle,” he snarled. “And you said yourself we couldn’t add someone on the list halfway through a battle. If you agree with Blitzwing, you would be cheating!”

Megatron snorted. “Well, we are Decepticons; it’s normal for us to lie, you know.” He was speaking as if it was natural but internaly, he was annoyed. He agreed with Optimus on this one, nobody was to be added on the ‘Death List’ without being notified first, even for logic’s sake, or just because you wanted to settle a score with someone.

But the sparklings and younglings siding with him weren’t soft. They needed to be ruled firmly, and he had to defend them at any turn if he wanted to keep any credibility as a leader, even if Optimus didn’t agree with him. He had to defend Blitzwing’s actions.

That didn’t meant he wouldn’t apologize to Optimus later, after having extorted his promise to never say it to anyone.

But for now, as he watched his brother’s face – or what could be seen of his face – literaly dissolve in an expression of pain, Megatron continued playing the miniature tyrant. He liked the role anyway.

Already, he could see distress on a lot of faces, and a few enrgon tears here and there, especially on the little yellow minibot. Anytime now, a teacher was going to separate everyone. And, right on cue, a voice boomed, “What is going on here?”

The children stilled. Here came their primary teacher/caretaker. Alpha Trion was an old mech and sometimes they found him scary, but all agreed he was very nice with them. Well, most of the time and with most of them.

Now, if only he told them stories instead of teaching them sciences and math and stupid stuff like that no one loved except Perceptor, Ratchet, Wheeljack, Scrapper and Hook...

The old teacher frowned. “Megatron, it’s you again, isn’t it? No, don’t answer; I know it’s you,” he cut off the sparkling before he could start ranting. “I thought I told you to stop bothering your friends. Don’t force me to send you to the corner once again,” warned Alpha Trion. Now, sparklings found him nice, but none of them ever said they found him fair. “Now, be a good sparkling and apologize to your comrades,” he continued.

He already knew the silver sparkling wouldn’t, but it was always worth a try.

The sparkling glared. “I’m not sorry. We play war, we don’t play nice!” he shouted. Some of his ‘troups’ nodded. The others kept quiet; no need to be punished too because they did something to upset the teacher. Their parents wouldn’t like that.

Alpha Trion looked at him in disapointment. “You’re truly an unruly sparkling,” sighed the old mech. “Go to the corner now, and don’t protest, or you will stay there until your creators come back to get you.”

Sometimes, he wondered how a sparkling as obedient as Optimus could be related to Megatron. They certainly didn’t look alike. Then again, their creators were wealthy enough and had asked for special designs...

Megatron grumbled but obeyed without a word, just glaring silently at the wall. Alpha Trion nodded to himself. “Good. You will stay there for the rest of the break. And, sparklings?” he asked to the young mechs who were watching him eagerly. “Don’t tease him or kick him in the aft this time. It’s a punishment for him, yes, but that’s not an excuse to harrass him. I’ll call the creators of the first one I catch approaching him with any ill intent.”

The sparklings nodded. They knew the rules by now. Still, it didn’t mean someone wasn’t out to annoy Megatron each time. Usually, it was Skywarp or Starscream. And speaking of the Pit-spawn...

Starscream jumped to action as soon as Alpha Trion had retreated to the classroom. “Since Megatron had been captured by the ennemy, I’m now the Decepticons’ new leader!” he declared proudly.

Thundercracker winced. Once again, Starscream was trying to take what he felt was rightfully his. Sure, he was the first one to propose they play war, but it was truly Megatron and Optimus who had shaped the whole story with new ideas and factions names and stuff like that.

They both had offered Starscream the place of Second in Command, but the red sparkling Seeker had threw a tantrum, and Optimus had withdrew his offer. Nobody could blame him for that. So, Megatron was the one dealing with the volatile sparkling. Not that they hated each other per se, but most of the time, the little seeker tried to wrestle the leadership away from Megatron.

Starscream didn’t always have bad ideas, but some of them were dangerous or backfired on them. Like the time the red Seeker had wanted to bring a bunch of younglings who called themeselves the ‘Combaticons’ into the game. They had all be excited to have new playmates, especially the Decepticons, who had lost a few members due to a loss of interest in the plot some time back. Sparklings and younglings grow up, sadly.

It had been a disaster. The younglings, who were almost as old as Ironhide, had beaten them all, without taking care of who was supposed to be on ‘their side’. They had insulted them, destroyed some of their toys weapons and kicked them at every chance they had. A yellow one had even stolen their energon goodies.

Hook and Bluestreak especially had been traumatized when one of the older younglings, a mech named Vortex, had started to whisper things in their audio, forced them to sit on his laps, touched them at very sensitive places and laped their tears when they started crying.

Thundercracker had been very disturbed by the way Vortex caressed them between their thighs. He had heard his creators say that that was a grown up thing and that he shouldn’t worry about that until he was old enough. But to see someone touch one of his playmate like that...

He hadn’t known if he should cry or attack the bigger mech to help them escape. The Twins, Prowl, Optimus, and the other ‘Constructicons’ hadn’t hesitate. As soon as their friend had started crying and calling for help, they had just jumped at their tormentors. They had been beaten up pretty badly for that.

Thankfully, mechs from the city Security Forces had come to get the bad younglings soon afterward, having been called by Alpha Trion and Kup, another teacher who had seen what had happened. Starscream had been inconsolable, no matter how many time everybody had insisted that it wasn’t his fault, that he couldn’t have known.

Later, the sparklings had learned their tormentors had escaped from a special center downtown and that they should be avoided at any cost if anyone ever saw them again. They couldn't be sent to jail because they were too young for that, but someday they would be.

They had all felt better upon hearing that.

Doctors had taken a good look at Hook and Bluestreak, creators had fussed over them for orns afterward and had granted them everything they wanted to ‘help get rid of the trauma’. Hook and Bluestreak had been to something called ‘therapy’ and had come back wary, but much more relaxed.

They had never told anyone what Vortex had said to them. Well, perhaps Prowl and Smokescreen knew, but that was only because they were Bluestreak’s adoptive brothers and they weren’t talking. For the Constructicons, Thundercracker wasn’t sure. They were close, but were they close enough to share secrets like that?

Alpha Trion’s call for them to get back to class stopped him from thinking too much about that. Sighing, the blue seeker followed his playmates into the large building, wondering if he should start praying for Primus to end the day quickly.

If only to cut short Starscream's complaints about things not being fair.  
___________________________________________________________________________

Much later, long after their creators came to bring them back home and shortly after being sent to their berth for a good, long recharge cycle, the two brothers were still talking about their favorite game.

“Now, Cybertron is almost mine,” smiled Megatron. “I told you I would win.”

Optimus turned his head, offended. “You’re not victorious yet! We’re still holding Iacon.”

Megatron shrugged. “But it’s gonna fall soon enough. And then, what will we do? It would be boring if we started the war again...”

The blue and red sparkling tilted his head, staring at his older brother. “Perhaps tomorrow, we can play at escaping from Cybertron to find energon on other planets?”

“I knew you were a coward,” smirked Megatron. Optimus glared at him. “Ok, you’re not,” amended the silver sparkling. “and that could be good idea. Shockwave is always telling us we don’t pay enough attention to the ‘energy crisis’ aspect of the game. So, perhaps you will try to escape Cybertron, but I will pursue you with my own group?”

Optimus beamed with joy at his brother’s idea. “Yes! And we would crash on a planet filled with sentient organics!” he exclaimed.

Megatron laughed. “Sentient organics? That’s stupid!”

“It’s not! Skyfire say they exist, and I believe him!” protested the red and blue sparkling, huffing. He was absotutely certain Skyfire was telling the truth; he was going to a special school for gifted younglings and each time he came to see them, he was always telling them tales of what he learned.

Sure, he found that boring sometimes, but other mechs like Perceptor were fascinated and always asked questions. Optimus envied Starscream for having such an intelligent relative. Oh, he wouldn’t have traded Megatron for anything in the universe, but it would have been nice to have another elder brother...

Megatron paused. “You think he would play with us?” he asked quietly.

Optimus frowned. “I don’t know. He’s kinda old to play mock war...” he answered uncertainly.

“Ironhide is old too, but he plays anyway,” pointed out Megatron. Internaly, he was hoping the youngling would accept. It wasn’t fair that almost all the older mech didn’t want to play or just kept siding with Optimus.

Omega Supreme was out to get him, Megatron just knew that, ever since he had the ‘Robosmasher idea’ and convinced the ‘Constructicons’ it would be best if they were on the ‘Decepticon’s side’. The bigger mech hadn’t taken well the news he would have to mock fight against his best friends.

Being Starscream’s older brother, if Skyfire agreed to play, he would most likely become a Decepticon himself. Now, that would be nice...

Optimus shook his head. “Ironhide plays because Chromia convinced him and he can’t say no to the younger mechs. Ever tried to say ‘no’ to Bumblebee while looking at him in the optics? I can tell you it’s not easy, especially when he pouts.”

“Perhaps Starscream will convince him?” said Megatron, without much conviction. Damn, there goes his good idea.

Optimus thought for a while. “Perhaps,” he conceded. “But since he goes to another school, he may not find the time to play with us often.”

“But he may plays. I will ask Starscream later,” conclued Megatron.

“You do that,” nodded Optimus as he snuggled closer to his brother, seeking his warmth. This was the main advantage of sharing a berth, although he doubted they would be able to continue for much longer. They were scheduled for a new upgrade in less than three vorns, and then they'd be too big to stay on such a small berth together.

A pity. But on the bright side, they might be able to convince their parents to buy them bunk beds.

The two sparkling stayed quiet for a moment, listening to their creators’ voice as they chatted with some friends they had invited over. They couldn’t wait until they were older so they could stay online so late. It wasn’t fun to miss parties because they were deemed far too young to stay online for long.

As he rolled to face his brother, Megatron smirked. “Now, about the ‘Weapon of the Week’ plan, I have some ideas I would like to share with you.”

Optimus winced. “If it’s anything like your ‘Robosmasher’ idea, you can forget it right now! Omega still hasn’t forgiven any of us for that one.”

Megatron just smiled. “Oh, trust me, you will like this...”


End file.
